


Arrested and Detained

by useless_slytherclaw



Series: Midnight Cobra [4]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Insomnia, M/M, MidCo, Mutual Pining, Oracion Seis being arrested, Post-Oracion Seis Arc, Rarepair, Semi Established Relationship, Tower of Heaven memories, oracion seis as a family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useless_slytherclaw/pseuds/useless_slytherclaw
Summary: The Council Rune Knights round up the defeated Oracion Seis members.  They have a short time to say their goodbyes before they are placed in solitary isolation in the Council's maximum security prison."Cobra doesn’t have an answer, and he doesn’t have time.  He surges forward and for just an instant presses his lips against Midnight’s before he drops back into his seat."
Relationships: Cobra | Erik/Midnight, Cobra | Erik/Midnight | Macbeth
Series: Midnight Cobra [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657261
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33
Collections: Fairy Tail Rare Pairs Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the prompts 'distance' and 'longing'.
> 
> It fits into the timeline of my other MidCo fics, but it can also stand alone.

Cobra hears the Council’s Rune Knights coming long before he sees them. But he doesn’t try and run. He doesn’t have it in him, he’s hardly managed to pull himself up to a sitting position. Besides, where would he go without the rest of the Oracion Seis. He has no one else and nowhere else.

He’d listened to everything that had happened, hardly able to move from where he was. After Zero fell, he’d sent Cubellios away. It hurt more than the wound in his back to watch her slither away, but he won’t let the Council get their hands on her.

They nab Cobra first. He doesn’t fight them; there isn’t a point. He couldn’t beat all of them in the state he is in. Despite his resignation, a flash of panic rises up in him as he sees the lacrima cuffs, and he realizes they are about to take his magic away, his hearing away.

He watches as they snapped the lacrima cuffs on him and shove him into a magical vehicle. The instant the cuffs close on his arms the world goes horribly quiet. A shiver runs down Cobra’s spine. He’d prefer it if they had blinded him. He hardly notices as they shove him down to sit on a bench. The vehicle starts moving. The sound of the voices outside the vehicle sound muffled. He shakes his head as if that could clear his ears and make him hear again. 

The vehicle stops moving, and he hears yelling. They’ve found Midnight. They shove him in and Midnight stumbles, almost falling to the floor. He sits across from Cobra, and he looks even more defeated than Cobra feels. His usually bright ruby eyes seem muddied and dark. He doesn’t look up from his hands as the vehicle starts moving.

“Midnight?” Cobra says. The look on Midnight’s face is like an ice cube down his back. He suddenly remembers Racer and his suicide vest. “Midnight!”

Midnight looks up at him, but his head is still bowed. “I lost.”

“We all lost.” Cobra meant it to be comforting, but it comes out cold and defeated. 

“They’re going to lock us up.” There’s an edge of fear in his voice. “Back behind bars again.”

“We got out last time,” Cobra points out. He doesn’t feel optimistic; he feels like he’s going to spend the rest of his life in a Council prison, but he can’t stop himself from trying to fight the defeat in Midnight’s face. 

Midnight snorts. “Don’t think we’ll get lucky twice.”

Cobra frowns. “We don’t have to rely on luck,” Cobra points out. He moves to cross his arms but is stopped by the lacrima cuffs. He lets out a huff of frustration. Midnight looks up at him and there’s a flicker of something like hope in his eyes. 

The vehicle is rattling to a stop, they must have found someone else. Cobra strains his ears but he hears nothing, of course. Cobra looks up, Midnight’s mouth is moving, maybe to shape the word ‘how’ or maybe to say something else. Cobra doesn’t have an answer, and he doesn’t have time. He surges forward and for just an instant presses his lips against Midnight’s before he drops back into his seat.

Midnight blinks at him as the door opens, and Racer is shoved into the cart. He looks the worst out of all of them. Cobra winces at the burns and cuts that cover his friend's body. But Racer’s face is a mask of anger and not of defeat.

Racer and Midnight are looking at each other and Cobra can’t read what’s going on between them. He curses the stupid Council and their stupid anti-magic lacrima. 

“What happened to you?” Midnight says. His voice is still despondent, but there’s some curiosity there. Cobra realizes that he’s the only one that knows the whole story. 

Racer frowns at Midnight. “What happened to _you_?”

“Light mages,” Cobra answers for both of them intentionally leaving out Racer’s suicide attempt. Cobra tries to let people keep their secrets. It’s stupid, but he doesn’t feel so hopeless with the two of them here, and he doesn’t want them spending the last bit of their time together fighting. 

“Fucking light mages,” Racer says with a murderous look. Midnight rolls his eyes in a movement that’s so quintessentially him that it makes Cobra think there’s still hope. 

They sit in silence as the vehicle rattles onward. Leaning his head against the wall, Cobra lets his mind race. He wonders: who they’ll get to next? Hoteye? Angel? Brain? Just thinking of Brain makes Cobra grind his teeth. There’s a flash of motion at the edge of his vision, and Cobra glances up to see that Midnight is looking at him, eyes slightly narrowed. Had Midnight really noticed his reaction? Cobra filed it away for later. He’s pretty sure that he will have a lot of time to think in the near future. 

His thoughts go back to Brain. Should Cobra tell the others about his betrayal? Cobra grinds his teeth harder. They all know that Brain only wanted them for their power. They wouldn’t be surprised. Weakness wasn’t tolerated in the Oracion Seis. Cobra snorts. So much for that. 

“Something funny?” Racer asks him. Cobra shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t feel like explaining his line of thought. Racer doesn’t push him. 

Cobra glances at Midnight, who has gone from looking at Cobra to looking at the ground again. His posture is so entirely un-Midnight-like that he almost seems like a different person. There’s no hint of cockiness or even confidence in him now. He looks more like the boy Cobra had known in the Tower of Heaven than the man he’s become. Cobra wants to reach out and comfort him. Instead, he clenches his hands into fists. He’s still not sure what he and Midnight are to each other, it’s not something they’d ever discussed. But whatever it is, it doesn’t involve comforting. 

The vehicle slams to a halt, and Cobra slides into Racer who hisses in pain. Cobra opens his mouth to apologize, but the door is already being open. 

“Get your hands off of me!” Angel’s voice proceeds her, as it often does. She’s shoved in as unceremoniously as the rest of them, but the door slams shut behind her so she gets to choose her seat. She tosses herself down next to Racer, leaving the larger space next to Midnight for Hoteye. “Disgusting men,” she rants, “absolutely no idea how to handle a lady.”

Racer’s lips twitch in amusement, and Cobra snorts. “I don’t think they consider you a lady,” Cobra tells her.

Angel crosses her legs deliberately. “Their mistake then,” she says with a cold voice. Cobra glances at Midnight. Often when Angel complains, Midnight joins her. They seem to enjoy judging other people together. But, Midnight hardly glances up. Angel looks around at the three of them, and her eyes narrow. Cobra doesn’t need his magic to know that she’s thinking ‘pathetic’. 

Angel sets her shoulders and purses her lips. All Cobra can do is brace himself. “So,” she says, looking down at her hands and frowning at her chipped nail polish, “what’s the plan, Cobra?”

“Why do you ask me?” Cobra bristles. Angel rolls her eyes. “He,” she says pointing at Racer, “rushes in and thinks about consequences later. No plans.” She turns her accusatory finger to Midnight next. “And he is moping.”

A flicker of irritation goes over Midnight’s face, but he doesn’t argue. Cobra frowns at him, willing him to argue, to pipe up, to be himself. 

“Besides,” Angel says with her own frown at Midnight. There’s concern behind her irritation. “You have the most information.”

That gives Cobra an idea. A slow smile spreads across his face, and Angel matches it. “That’s the look I wanted to see.”

“What are you going on about,” Racer says with obvious irritation. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“That’s the concussion,” Angel says. Racer makes a face at her, and she responds in kind. Cobra has never been so glad for Angel in his entire life. He can only hope she’ll work her magic on Midnight before they make it to the prison. 

“We can trade them information,” Cobra clarifies. Midnight glances up at him, and there’s a spark in his eyes. Cobra doesn’t look away.

“You think they’d let us out for information?” Racer scoffs. The light in Midnight’s eyes goes out, and Cobra wants to throttle Racer for a moment. 

“We have information about Grimoire Heart and Tartaros,” Angel reminds him. “Things that no one else in the world knows.”

“Still,” Racer says, but it’s obvious that there’s hope there. “We know their numbers and some of their names and powers, how valuable is that?”

Angel grins. “We,” she says and gestures to Racer, Midnight, and herself. “Don't know that much about them. Maybe enough to get one of us out, but not all of us. But him,” all of them turn to look at Cobra, “he knows plenty.”

Cobra grins. It’s not a pleasant grin, and his fangs flash in the light. She’s right. He knows more about Grimoire Heart and Tartaros than anyone else in the world; the masters of Tartaros and Grimoire Heart included. He knows the hearts of the members. He knows their plans. He knows that sooner or later they will start to make a ruckus, and he will make sure that he’s ready.

Midnight is sitting up now. His eyes flicker between Angel and Cobra before settling on Cobra. Cobra’s familiar with the expression on Midnight’s face; he’s thinking or more accurately calculating. He can almost hear Midnight weighing their crimes against the Tartaros and Grimoire Heart Guilds. Cobra meets his eye with the most confident smile he can manage. 

For a moment Cobra and Midnight lock eyes. Midnight gives a slight nod and looks away. Cobra slouches back in his seat. He wishes that he was as confident as he’s pretending to be. He starts to sort through his memories for information that the Council would find useful. He also needs to think of a way to present the information. 

The vehicle is drawing to a stop again. But this time the door doesn’t open. The four in the back of the car look at eachother. Cobra strains his ears, but the walls of the vehicles block the sound. He wonders if it's Hoteye or Brain. 

“What’s going on?” Racer asks Cobra. Cobra frowns at him.

“I can’t hear any better than you can,” his voice is sharp. 

Angel rolls her eyes. “You can’t hear now. What about earlier? Why would they keep Hoteye or Brain separately?”

Cobra fights the tension in his shoulders as he tries to slouch against the seat. He bites his lip as he tries to figure out exactly what to tell the others. They’ve all just started to look more like themselves again, and he has the feeling that a wrong word could shatter the fragile hope they’re all clinging to. 

“Well,” Cobra says before pausing. Angel rolls her eyes and motions for him to hurry up. “When Nirvana activated it changed Hoteye’s heart. Made him stop caring about money.”

They all looked at him in disbelief. A version of Hoteye who didn’t care about money was like a version of Racer who wanted to walk slowly or a version of Cobra who hated snakes. “We know that he was gathering money to search for his brother. He thinks he’s found a better way to do it. They probably think we’ll convert him back or beat him up for switching sides.”

Midnight frowns at that. “It’s his choice to make.” 

“A bullshit choice,” Racer grouses.

“Still his choice,” Midnight says, but he doesn’t sound happy about it. 

“And Brain?” Angel asks. 

Cobra resists the urge to growl or snap. He doesn’t want to think about Brain. He doesn’t want to tell his friends about how easy it was for Brain to toss each of them aside as they fell. He knows that they’ll probably think they deserve it. 

“He’s the leader isn’t he,” Cobra finally says. Today will be hard enough without telling them about Brain’s true feelings for them. “Probably don’t want him giving us ideas.”

Racer and Angel seem to accept this. Midnight, however, is studying him. It takes a conscious effort for Cobra not to clench his jaw as he looks at Midnight. Instead, he raises an eyebrow. Midnight narrows his eyes briefly before looking away. He obviously suspects that Cobra is hiding something, but it seems that he isn't going to go digging. Cobra is grateful for that.

When the vehicle stops again, they all stare at the door waiting. It doesn’t open again. It seems that Cobra’s guesses were right. 

The vehicle starts moving again, and it doesn’t stop for quite a while. The ride is quiet. The reality of their arrest is starting to settle down on them again. Well, all of them except for Racer who appears to be asleep or maybe unconscious. Cobra looks him over with a critical eye; he’s in desperate need of medical attention. Really, they could all use a healer. Somehow, he doubts that's very high on the Council’s agenda. The longer they sit in the cart, the heavier the silence gets. Angel’s hands are gripping the edge of her tattered dress so tightly that her knuckles are starting to go white. Midnight’s head is hanging down, but he’s not asleep; he’s probably trying to hide his expression from the others. 

Cobra is starting to get antsy. He wishes they would just get to the prison already. The waiting is horrible. He misses the solid weight of Cubellios’ body against his. He hopes that Cubellios is far away and that she’s safe. His heart clenches. Cubellios is a smart snake, unnaturally so, and she’ll be able to take care of herself, but Cobra still worries. He knocks the back of his head against the side of the vehicle to try and distract himself. Midnight looks up at him with a curious expression, but Cobra just shakes his head. He isn’t going to talk about it. Midnight looks back down at his own hands. 

They remain silent until the vehicle comes to a halt again. All four of them tense almost in unison. The door opens and Cobra squares his shoulders and puts a bored expression on his face. He won’t give the Rune Knights the satisfaction of his distress. Glancing around he watches Angel and Midnight pick up a similar act. They pull out confident sneers as if they are putting on a pair of glasses. It’s a bit impressive if he’s being honest.

One of the Knights steps in and grabs Angel by the shoulder. She shakes him off with a look of disgust. 

“I can get out by myself thanks,” she shoves her way past him. Racer starts to move to follow Angel out, but the man shoves him down.

“Just the girl.” 

Racer, Cobra, and Midnight all pin him with identical glares. 

The man pale’s visibly and starts to move out of the vehicle. “Didn’t think that women and men have the same prison did you?” he sneers at them once he is safely outside. 

They all look at Angel, who is standing there with her head high as one of the Rune Knights puts shackles around her ankles. Only the three of them noticed the small quiver at the edge of her smirk. Racer growls. 

“Angel,” Midnight says. His voice betrays none of the anger burning in his eyes. “Atleast you don’t have to deal with men anymoree.”

“With idiots, you mean.” She says.

“Give them hell,” Racer says. She winks at them. Her smirk is a little more solid now. 

“They won’t know what hit them,” Cobra says with a smile of his own.

They watch helplessly as the Knights walk Angel away. She keeps her head high, and her steps are steady despite the bruises, cuts, and burns that cover her body. The door slams shut, and they lose sight of her. Racer slams his head back against the wall hard enough that Cobra winces, and Midnight clenches his hands until his fingers go white. 

“Do you think they’ll put us all in the same prison?” Midnight asks and his voice is carefully blank.

“Not sure how many maximum-security prisons they have,” Cobra says. “Maybe we each get our own.”

It’s an attempt at levity that gets a flicker of a smile. It’s the best he has though. The silence closes back in around them as the vehicle rattles on. The silence is even heavier now. Cobra wants to scream or something. The silence is horrible. He hates it. He hates the way he can hardly hear anything outside the vehicle. All his attempts to listen outside the vehicle earn him is a headache.

This time when the vehicle stops, all three of them grow incredibly still. This is it. They’ve already taken Angel away. The door opens. Cobra’s heartbeat is starting to race, and it makes Cobra angry. He hates how afraid he feels. 

“Get out here,” a gruff voice calls into the vehicle. Racer is closest to the door, and so gets to his feet first. His face is a mask of anger as he climbs out. He doesn’t say anything as they push him along, and someone brings out ankle chains.

For a long moment, he and Midnight stare at each other. Cobra wants to say something, but he has no words. 

“All of you,” the guard snaps again.

Midnight gets to his feet. Cobra can see the anger in his movements, but he doubts that the guards can. Midnight moves with a semblance of his usual laziness. His face is a mask of boredom. But Cobra knows him well enough to see the tension in his shoulders and way his hands are slightly fisted. Cobra gets up almost immediately to follow him. 

They stand there, and let the Knights put chains around their ankles. What else can they do? Midnight stares blankly into the distance, but Cobra looks around. He can see a huge rectangular building. This must be the prison. 

“Get in line,” the guard snaps at them. When he doesn’t move, Cobra is shoved into standing behind Midnight. 

“Don’t try anything,” another one says as they shove them forward.

“I think he’s scared,” Midnight says. Cobra can’t see the smirk on his face, but he knows that it’s there. 

“Sounds like it,” Cobra agrees with him. The man hits him with his spear. 

“Hitting defenseless criminals,” Racer says with a tutting sound. “I expected better from the Council’s Rune Knights.”

Cobra half expects the Knights to hit them again, but they don't. He glances around at the Rune Knights as they are walked into the prison. He tries to put the thoughts he’d heard earlier to faces and figure out how he should try to bargain and with whom. 

They are led into the building. The guards take their fingerprints. They take their pictures. Then they are searched. Cobra stares at the ceiling and tries to ignore the hands on him. It’s harder for him to ignore the guard searching Midnight. Midnight looks bored with the entire thing, but Cobra glares at the hands moving down Midnight’s body. 

Midnight catches him watching. He winks. Cobra looks away slightly embarrassed. He tries to calm his mind. Anger and fear are both useless right now. He doesn’t bother speaking to the guards with them now. None of them have a position of any importance. If he had been thinking, he would have offered to bargain with the Squad Leader before they got shoved in the magical vehicle. 

Luck is on his side. A man with short black hair and scars on his face comes into the room. All of the guards immediately turn in deference to him.

“Doranbolt!” One of them salutes. “The prisoners have been checked in and searched. As soon as cells are made ready, we can send them in.”

The man nods and turns to leave. “Doranbolt,” Cobra calls. Everyone looks at him. 

“What do you want,” the man glares at him.

“Nothing really,” Cobra says. He shrugs as if this means nothing to him. “Thought I’d offer some help.”

“Trying to make a deal?” Doranbolt asks. Cobra doesn’t miss the skepticism in his voice. “Going to turn on your friends here?”

“You know,” Cobra says, not addressing Doranbolt’s assumption. “I use hearing magic. I can hear the voice of a person's heart.”

“Is this going somewhere?” Doranbolt asks.

Cobra grins. “The Oracion Seis are only part of the Balam Alliance. I know more about the Balam Alliance than anyone in the world. When you need help with Grimoire Heart. Remember that I’m here.”

“Only Grimoire Heart? What about Tartaros?”

“I’ll give you this piece of information for free. Tartaros is scary. By the time you think to ask me for help, it’ll probably already be too late. Feel free to ask though, Mest.”

Everyone’s gaze is on him. The man called Doranbolt looks confused, and isn’t that interesting. It had taken him a moment to remember. But Cobra had heard his heart when the Knights were rounding them up. He remembered because it was interesting. There was a second, quiet voice buried under the active one. 

Cobra shrugs again and turns away. He doesn’t engage as the guards to whisper to themselves. He doesn’t look at Midnight or Racer. That’s the best he can do. They’ll all just have to wait. Cobra’s certain that Grimoire Heart or Tartaros will start something big sooner or later. He hopes for all of them that it's sooner and not later. 

Someone arrives and announces that the cells are ready. The three of them are shoved forward again and down a long hallway. This time Midnight is behind him. They walk out of a door and onto a platform. Around them, large cubes float in the air. A man on the platform by them is moving his hands over a control panel, and one of the cubes is coming closer to them. 

Cobra suddenly feels a hand pressing against his back. He tilts his head but doesn’t look back. If he looks back it’ll catch the guards’ attention. A moment later Midnight pulls his hand back. Cobra’s not entirely sure what that was supposed to be a reassurance? A goodbye? Something else? 

Cobra glances over his shoulder; he wants to see Midnight’s face. The guard in front of him grabs him by hands and jerks him around.

“Prisoner number 100977,” he says. This is you. The box is flush with the platform now and one of the walls peels back to reveal a cell. Cobra blinks in surprise. He steps forward though, not giving them a chance to shove them. He may be a prisoner, but he has dignity. He pauses at the edge of the platform and looks at Racer and Midnight. Racer’s face is clouded with frustration. Midnight’s is horribly blank. Racer and Cobra exchange nods.

The guard prods Cobra with his spear.

“M,” Cobra says. Midnight meets his gaze. Cobra can’t read the emotions in those eyes, and he doesn’t have time to try. He winks. “See you on the other side.”

He steps into the box. He doesn’t turn around as the walls close behind him. He doesn’t look at Midnight. He hears the guard laugh. He hears him say “You guys are never getting out of here. You’re never going to see each other again either.” 

As soon as he is in the box, his lacrima cuffs separate into two bracelets. The ankle chains do the same. Cobra just raises his hand to wave behind him. The box finishes closing itself up, and any sound from the platform vanishes. Cobra takes a few steps into the space, but the box starts to move, and he stumbles. 

After managing to regain his balance, he sits until the stupid thing stops moving. Once it’s settled, he gets up. He moves to the bed and sits down. It’s hardly better than the floor, though. Cobra groans and lays back. His entire body hurts, and his shoulder is throbbing.

Cobra closes his eyes. It seems like he can’t expect any immediate medical attention. He might as well try and sleep. At least if he is asleep, he won’t hurt. Normally, Cobra doesn’t have trouble falling asleep, but today is far from normal. The lacrima in the ceiling are glowing enough to give a semblance of daylight. But, the bed feels like a brick; Cobra might as well try and sleep on the floor. 

It’s not just that, though. Cobra bangs his head against the bed several times. 

“Pathetic,” he tells himself. The bed is horrible empty. It feels _wrong._

“Pathetic,” he reminds himself as he tries to remember the last time he went to bed alone. Last few years he’s had Midnight in his bed, but even before that Cubellios had always slept on his bed.

Cobra has to resist the urge to reach out as if he might find Cubellios curled up just outside his reach. He closes his eyes. Normally he sleeps sandwiched between Cubellios and Midnight. The bed is cold and empty.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the rain again...
> 
> Thanks to mdelpin [mdelpin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdelpin/pseuds/mdelpin) for beta reading this chapter. It'd be a mess without her help.

Midnight is lying on his back and staring at the ceiling again. How long has he been staring at this ceiling? How long has he been in this cell? He doesn’t know. There are no windows; all the light comes from the lacrima in the ceiling. He could count the days by the meals that they slide into his cell, three a day, or by the cycle of light and dark in the lacrima. But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know how long they’ll keep him in solitary confinement so why count the days? He has nothing to count down to. 

His eyes are gritty with lack of sleep. The lights seem to flicker. He closes his eyes, but it’s pointless. His hands clench by his sides; what he wouldn’t give for a good night’s sleep. But even when his body finally gives in to exhaustion, he’s woken by his dreams, by the nightmares. The Tower of Heaven still haunts him. There’s no forgetting the sound of the whips cracking, people crying, or guards laughing. He hears the sounds of the Tower all around him.

Midnight jerks into a sitting position, and his eyes fly open of their own accord. For a terrifying moment, there was a man standing before him with the white mask of a guard. Beside him is a massive pinky-red beast with large yellowing teeth. Midnight gasps and scrambles back; but the image is already gone. Of course, there are no guards here and no other slaves. There is no sound here except for his own breathing and his pounding heart. He shudders. When his eyelids grow heavy, he forces them open. If he closes his eyes, he might hear the sounds of The Tower again. 

Midnight rolls out of bed and onto his feet. For a moment he stretches out his back and listens to his spine cracking and popping. He must have been lying there for longer than he thought. Then he drops down to the ground. He starts with pushups. It’s better to focus on this than on the thoughts in his head. Hopefully, he can exhaust his body enough for sleep to claim him. He doesn’t count the push-ups, although sometimes he does. 

Instead, he goes until his arms are shaking and burning. The burning feeling in his muscles distracts him from the thoughts in his head. When his arms won’t hold him up anymore, he rolls over and starts with sit-ups. Then squats. Then he goes back to pushups again. 

His whole body is aching and shaking. He lets himself focus on the pain filling him; it keeps memories of the Tower away. After washing his face in the small sink they’ve given him, he throws himself down on his bed. His body sinks into it even though it's hardly softer than the floor. His eyes fall closed as he lies there. For a while, his mind is blissfully empty and sleep starts to claim him. He’s drifting on the edge of sleep when a change in the light brings him back to wakefulness. 

The lacrima are starting to get darker. Midnight’s voice is caught in his throat. He wants to scream for them to turn the lights back on, but he knows they won’t listen. He’s tried asking to no avail, but maybe if he screams loud enough they’ll drug him. Or maybe they’ll just leave him here to scream until his throat bleeds.

Nights are the worst. He keeps his eyes wide open, but it doesn’t matter because the lacrimas go dark and he can’t see anything. Pulling his knees to his chest, he wraps his arms around them. He pretends like he doesn’t notice that he’s trembling. There’s movement in the shadows at the edge of his vision. The shadows are moving and twisting. They are reaching for him. 

His hand clench around his arms so tight that his nails draw blood. Temporarily, the pain distracts him. It fights back the shadows. He closes his eyes. He wants to sleep, to go back to blissful, dreamless nothingness. He hasn’t slept properly since he got here. How many weeks has it been?

Midnight forces himself to think about better things. He thinks about the Oracion Seis Guild Hall. The training room comes to mind with its lacrima reinforced walls. He’s spent countless hours in that room and knows every inch of it. He pictures the mess room and the settee by the window where Angel always sat so that she could lounge in the sun. It was the same settee where he’d first kissed Cobra. He can see the way that Cobra looked in that moment, relaxed and bathed in moonlight. He must have heard Midnight approaching all the way from his room, but he hadn’t gotten up or closed the distance. Just waited, confident that Midnight would come to him. And he had hadn’t he? 

Cobra. It’s hard to think about Cobra. On one hand, those memories are the best and the most distracting. On the other hand, he desperately wants to be back in Cobra’s room in the Guild Hall and to fall asleep with Cobra lying beside him. 

He remembers suddenly when they were back in the Tower. He’d been scared then too and exhausted from too many nights without sleep and too many days of work. Cobra had smiled at them and said: “I’m getting out of here one day, and be free. You all should do that too.” And they had.

For a second he clings to that image; the child Erik standing at the window and looking back at him. His smile. But the memory slips away like water between his fingers no matter how hard he tries to cling to it. 

His mind turns to the memory of Cobra walking into the cube cell. He’d walked with the same confidence as he always did. It was like Midnight was watching him go out the door of the Guild Hall and not into a cell. It was enough to give Midnight hope. 

“I’ll see you on the other side,” he’d said. It wasn’t a question. It was a guarantee that they would be together again.

“You guys are never getting out of here. You’re never going to see each other again either.” The guard had said, and he’d laughed. The words had dug into Midnight’s chest and grabbed until it was hard to breathe around the fear. The prospect of never seeing the outside of this stupid cube seizes him all over again. He’ll never see any of them again: Angel, Hoteye, Racer, Cobra, or Brain. He wonders about them sometimes. Is Angel also trapped in a windowless box by herself? Or are things different where she is? He hopes that she at least has a window. 

He tries not to think about Brain. Midnight failed; he had lost to the light guild. He knew that Brain would not easily forget that. It didn’t matter that Brain and Zero had lost too. Especially not when it had led them all here to these windowless boxes. Guilt seizes Midnight all over again. He should have been stronger. It’s his fault that they are all in here. He was supposed to be the strongest. The Oracion Seis were all that he had and he’d failed to protect them. 

“Let’s just stop feeling sorry for ourselves.” Something else Erik had said back in the Tower of Heaven. A growl escapes Midnight’s lips. He flips himself over on his stomach and pushes the guilt away. Instead, he thinks about the last time he saw all of them, in the magical vehicle. It’s easy to call up the look on Cobra’s faces as he talks about exchanging information for their release. His confidence comforts Midnight. Honestly, Midnight’s not at all sure it will work. There are too many unknowns: the council’s plans, the Balam Alliances plans, and what information Cobra actually has. Still, Cobra had looked right at Midnight, and his eyes were asking for trust. So Midnight gave it to him. He let himself hope, because Cobra believed that he could get them out. Back in the Tower of Heaven, Cobra had been right about their freedom; hadn’t he?

Midnight flips back onto his back. He opens his eyes, but it doesn’t change anything. There’s nothing to see in the pitch-black box. He can’t fight back the shudder that seizes him. 

“You’re never getting out of here,” the man’s words echo in his head. He wants to hope; he does. But here, he is alone in the dark and hope seems very, very far away. He squeezes his eyes shut again and focuses on the image of Cobra in his mind, forcing himself to think about details: the way his purple eyes look in the sun, the curve of his lips when he smiles, the points of his canine teeth, the exact bronze shade of his skin. It’s easy to slip from there into fantasy. It’s easy to remember the soft feeling of his hair under Midnight’s fingers or the taste of his lips. 

Midnight is happy to let those thoughts take over, to fall into a fantasy or maybe it’s a memory. Cobra’s hands on him, holding his hips hard and pulling him close. Midnight surrenders to him, parting his lips for a deeper kiss. Sooner or later Cobra will push him up against the wall or down to the bed. Midnight doesn’t care. He tangles his hand in Cobra’s hair and pulls him down into the kiss. He traces the lines of Cobra’s body with his other hand, feeling his abs under his shirt or the sweep of his shoulders. Until he gives up on that and slides his hand up under Cobra’s shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. He likes the way that Cobra growls into the kiss when Midnight tugs on his belt or slides his thumb down the v of his hips. Midnight likes to tease. He likes the hunger in his partner’s eyes. He enjoys pushing him and pushing him until he snaps. Then he’ll pin Midnight down and take him until Midnight can’t breathe and his head is swimming with pleasure. They’ll stay there until there’s nothing in the whole world but the two of them.

Midnight’s eyes open again. His breath quickens just remembering. Groaning, Midnight rubs his hands over his face. His eyes are still horribly dry, and his muscles hurt from his work out. He wants to sleep. He wants Cobra to be here beside him. He wants to lay his head on Cobra’s chest and breathe in the smell of him until he falls asleep feeling warm and safe. But instead, he’s stuck in this empty room. There’s nothing to keep him company here except for his own thoughts. 

“Erik,” he whispers. He hopes that Cobra will hear him. He knows that it’s stupid because if Midnight can’t use his magic to sleep then Cobra can’t use his magic to hear. But if Cobra can hear him then he’s not so alone. And the aching loneliness is almost as bad as the memories.

There are so many words that he could say, that he wants to say. They bubble up at the back of his throat and try to push their way out. He bites them back because saying them, even into the empty silence of the room, will make them real. The words have been trapped inside him for years, since before he even kissed Cobra that first time. He doesn’t even remember when the words first appeared.

Had it been back in the Tower of Heaven when they were all dirty and exhausted, and Cobra’s confidence that they would get free was the only hope that kept them all going? 

Maybe it had been after they first moved to the Guild Hall with Brain. The first night none of them could sleep. They’d spent so many years curled up together in the cell in the Tower of Heaven that it felt weird to sleep alone. When they slept, they had nightmares. The second night, Sorano had snuck into his room and crawled into bed beside him. Then Sawyer had joined them. Then Richard had come in. They’d all huddled together on the bed and managed to sleep. Midnight woke up hours later with a scream trapped in his throat and the image of the guards dragging away an old woman who couldn’t get up anymore to be sacrificed. Erik was shaking his shoulders. He said nothing but pulled Macbeth against him until his heartbeat stopped racing and he was able to go back to sleep. He slept through the rest of the night.

Or maybe it was later, after they got their magic. The days after they started using magic had been messy and dangerous and scary. Brain had taken Cobra away for the surgery to implant the lacrima. The four had waited together in the Guild Hall mess the entire night until they brought him back. But, Cobra couldn’t control his magic at first. Poison leaked out of his hands, which had turned to claws, and it destroyed, and it damaged. He’d locked himself in his room afraid to hurt one of them. But Midnight also had new magic, magic that meant Cobra’s poison couldn’t touch him. Midnight had forced his way into Cobra’s room. He remembered the fear on Cobra’s face as he whispered for him to go away. Midnight could see that he wanted to scream, but his ears were so sensitive in the beginning that he would only whisper.

“Look,” Midnight had said as he closed the door behind him. He’d pushed his hand into the cloud of poison in front of him. “You can’t hurt me.” He’d walked straight through the poison and wrapped his arms around his friend. 

The poison couldn’t touch him. 

So Midnight had held Cobra and promised him that Cubellios was okay and that Angel was taking care of her. He’d rubbed his back and said he would stay until Cobra got his magic under control, and he had. 

Midnight sighs. There are hundreds of moments that he could pick up and examine. Which one was the beginning? Which one had flipped the switch? When had he fallen in love? Because that was the ugly truth of it. Midnight was horribly in love. He knew that emotions were a weakness; Brain had made that very clear. But no matter what he did, Midnight couldn’t silence the part of his heart that clung to Cobra. It had only gotten harder and harder to swallow the words back as the years passed

There were so many times he’d wanted to say it. Sometimes it was in their most intimate moments, when Cobra kissed him breathless or when they lay tangled in the sheets of Cobra’s bed sweaty and tired but content. Watching him fight, Midnight was often caught by the combination of beauty and power in his movements. There were a hundred other moments that came to mind, like when Cobra left for a mission with nothing but a careless wave and Midnight watched with a sharp pang in his heart and words left unsaid.

But he keeps the words back. Ever since he first kissed Cobra, they’ve been together. It’s an unspoken arrangement that they keep from the rest of the guild. Midnight isn’t willing to let it go, not even to get the words out of his heart. He’d rather let them eat him up from the inside than let them out and break what he already has. Emotions aren’t part of the bargain and Midnight knows that. Emotions are a weakness that they don’t want. So Midnight kept the words back and enjoyed the sex. There was a lot to enjoy.

Sometimes, like now, he thinks that he never should have kissed Cobra in the first place. But he hadn’t been able to resist. He doesn’t regret it, not really. How could he? Still, now that he knows what it's like to be in Cobra’s arms and to make love to him, it’s so much harder to be without it. 

If he closes his eyes he can summon the memories of them together. There are so many of them that they blend together. When he focuses, he can almost imagine that Cobra is there beside him only inches away. But of course, he isn’t. Midnight is alone here in this cell and he’s going to be for God only knows how long.

He opens his eyes, and Cobra is standing there. Midnight  _ knows _ it’s a hallucination. But he can’t stop himself; he reaches out. The smiling Cobra moves towards him. But as soon as his fingers brush the space where Cobra’s face appears, the image is gone. 

“Erik,” he whispers again. “Please. Get us out of here, soon. I need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you thought! Comments make my whole day.
> 
> Feel free to come say hi on [tumblr](https://useless-slytherclaw.tumblr.com/)!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. I love comments! You can also come say hi on [tumblr](https://useless-slytherclaw.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> The next chapter is from Midnight's point of view.


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